


Empty

by Evanescent_Eternity



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Depression, Flash Fic, M/M, One Shot, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Sad, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evanescent_Eternity/pseuds/Evanescent_Eternity
Summary: Books, magazines, and papers with wild writings and drawings were all over the place, along with bottles, cans, and pizza boxes.I guess ants will eventually appear, he thought dispassionately.Or cockroaches.





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> Proofreader: ℓuMing. Thank you so much! You're amazing!

Sleep on and off throughout the day; get out of bed to eat or use the bathroom; go back to bed as fast as possible—lather, rinse, repeat. This was the monotonous cycle from which he was incapable of breaking free; he had been stuck in it for several months already. While waiting for sleep to claim him again, the man was lying in bed—looking absentmindedly at the plain white ceiling—and, although it was way too hot, he was curled up under a heavy comforter (how he didn’t suffer a heat stroke yet was a mystery). His hair was in complete disarray, and a pair of worn-out briefs was the only clothing he was wearing. Books, magazines, and papers with wild writings and drawings were all over the place, along with bottles, cans, and pizza boxes.

_I guess ants will eventually appear_ , he thought dispassionately. _Or cockroaches._

The TV wasn’t on like it used to be all the time. In fact, the man couldn’t recall the last time he had touched it. In a corner of the room, quite a number of clothes—some clean, some dirty—were tangled together in one huge mess on the floor. But who cared? Not him, for sure, not anymore. He even had resigned from work. Most people, of course, had asked why, since it was a prestigious and well-paid job. His answer? A simple and straightforward “Why not?”

Life had no meaning, after all.

_What do we work for?_

_What do we study for?_

_What do we live for?_

_Aren’t we all going to die in the end, anyway?_

_What are we here for?_

_For pleasure?_

_Are we alive just for this?_

_Do we work for this?_

_Do we study for this?_

_Do we make money for this?_

_But pleasure is ephemeral, so isn’t it a waste of time to pursue it?_

_It's just an endless race to obtain a finite pot of gold…_

_Why do we run?_

Struggling to get out of bed, for it felt like his legs were made of cement and his joints were creaking with any minimal movement, the man walked over to the fridge and opened it. Two eggs, five cans of beer, and a bottle of milk way past the expiration date. He grabbed a can, took a few sips, and casually threw it on the ground—still half-full. Swaying a little, he returned to bed and wrapped himself up in the comforter so that he was entirely covered. His blank gaze landed on the armchair near the wardrobe, where it rested for several minutes before drifting back to the ceiling. He yawned, feeling kind of groggy.

_Why do we eat?_

_Why do we drink?_

_Why do we sleep?_

_Why do we breathe?_

_Why should I try to carry on with my life?_

_For what?_

_Should I kill myself?_

_Do I have the courage to?_

_Why death?_

_Is what comes after death better than this?_

_No… I don’t think so._

Suddenly, reality began to distort and change, and the man found himself in another time, in another place; he was in a beautiful, cozy and tidy bedroom, lying comfortably in a large and soft bed. The expensive TV near the burning fireplace was on; the sounds of some highly acclaimed movie filling the room. However, none of these things appealed to him—not when _he_ was next to him, lying in the same bed. The figure was a handsome, handsome man. Tanned skin; sharp facial features; blue and avid eyes; blonde wavy hair as wild as the man himself; and a wide and contented smile. Their fingers intertwined tenderly, then their bodies brushed up against each other in a gentle and familiar way. After that, they kissed; mouths touching fully, tongues wandering and tasting freely. Soon, the air got heavy with desire and…

And nothing but the emptiness of his true reality.

For the second time that day, the man found himself gazing at the armchair—it was where _he_ had proposed to him, on a night that, now, seemed so far away.

Curling up into a fetal position, he closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come and take him away quickly. When that didn’t happen, an anguished sound ended up leaving his lips, and, finally, a continuous cry…

_It’s such a wretched thing to be alive…_

Since _he_ had left this world, there was no reason to live.

**Author's Note:**

> I drew inspiration from the song "Empty" by Winner to write this story. You can listen to the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySrsdn6QQRY).
> 
> Reviews and kudos are appreciated! ^^
> 
> ✧[Twitter](https://twitter.com/Euphoria_Chaser)


End file.
